Fools Rush in While Devils Sell Tickets
by Halcyone
Summary: A call from Bobby alerts Sam and Dean to a set of vampire decapitations in Illinois. Bobby suspects that Gordon Walker is behind it and wants them to stay clear but Dean is eager to settle things once and for all with Gordon. R&R is very appreciated.
1. Who You Gonna Call?

"…thanks again, we'll keep that in mind. Later Bobby."

"What was that all about?" Dean asked as Sam clicked shut his cell phone.

"It was just Bobby. He caught word of a string of decapitations over in Illinois. Looks like someone has been taking out vampires and based on the method of elimination he was planning on checking to make sure…"

"Gordon. It's him, isn't it? He's out and hunting again. Goddamnit, that slimy sonuva-"

"If you would let me finish a complete sentence for a change Dean, actually that was what Bobby was calling about. He was on his way to make sure Gordon was still in jail like he is supposed to be. Bobby was just calling to let us know to keep our heads low in case Gordon was actually out and looking to settle the score with us. He figured we might want to look into a couple of possible Gremlins over in Colorado, Bobby thought it would be…"

"Far away with a safe little milk job so we wouldn't run into our dear old friend Gordie huh?" Sam nodded his head with a slight grin.

"Well fat chance about that and Bobby should'a known better than to seriously think we would go along with his little plan to keep us little kids safe. And Gremlins? C'_mon_. Seriously if he was gonna make up a job he could've at least tired to make it a little more tempting and exciting than _gremlins _to actually make us pass up something like catching up on the good old times with our pal Gordie."

"Dean, why don't we just look into this thing in Colorado. It probably isn't Gordon anyways, they sent him to a high security prison that should keep even him busy trying to get out for a long time. Even if it is him what is the point in hunting him down? So you and he can go at it in some big manly macho showdown, fighting with all kinds of things sharp and deadly?" Sam argued.

"Because," Dean said as he slipped the keys into the ignition, "If we don't track him down first then you _know_ he will be hunting us down and I would rather have this 'Big Macho Manly Showdown' as you call, it on our terms rather than his. Plus," Dean added as the Impala roared to life, "You're not gonna let him get away with calling you Sammy for the rest of his life are you?" Dean grinned. Sam rolled his eyes as he reluctantly agreed with his brother's twisted, but surprisingly accurate, reasoning.

"So where in Illinois is our good ol' pal Gordie hanging out? Some cozy little run-down farm town picking off the blood suckers?"

"Not quite," Sam smirked, "Downtown Chicago."

"Well," Dean shrugged with a bit of a glint in his eye, "Guess that means I'll have better selection to choose from in the bars than I would in a run-down hick town tavern."

"You are talking about alcohol right?" Sam questioned, although he was confident drinks was not the type of selection his brother had in mind, at least not unless it was held in the hand of a rather attractive woman.

"Yeah, I guess that too." Dean smiled as they turned onto the interstate while Sam was already regretting answering his cell in the first place.


	2. Can You Feel the Techno Beat?

Thanks for everyone who is reading my story and (hopefully) enjoying it. This chapter may come off a bit weird. I dunno maybe it is just me but the following chapter will be less...random. I am already working on the next section which will actually add a bit more to the story than this chapter which was more randomness than actual plot progression. Till then enjoy this and let me know what you think of things so far.

* * *

"Dammit Sammy, when I said I was looking forward to hitting some bars in Chicago this is not exactly what I meant." Dean griped. 

"What?" Sam yelled as he elbowed his way through the sea of glitter, sequined feathers and…uhhh…fancy fabrics of some sort which he was not overly acquainted with.

"Sorry Dean, that shirtless waiter in the black leather pants with the tray of fruity drinks for that group of women was in the way, what did you say again?"

"Fruity is exactly right Sammy, what the hell are we doing here? I feel like every second longer I am here it is that much likelier I am gonna start growing a set of ovaries. I really doubt we are going to run into any vampires here and I am DAMMED sure we are not going to find Gordon in a bar like this."

"Hey, it was your idea to check out all of the bars in the general vicinity that the decapitated bodies were found. Not my fault that most of them are not exactly your idea of what a bar should be."

"Not my idea of a bar?!" Dean sputtered. "Sammy that last one was a fetish bar! Or did the leather clad men with whips not tip you off? Or the way they all practically started drooling when you walked in?"

"Yeah but it was worth it to see your face when that one guy commented on how cute it was that we visited the clubs together as a couple and then suggested a few specialty stores for us to get matching leather outfits." Sam grinned wickedly.

"Dammit Sammy that is just so _wrong. _I swear, not another word about that or you are never seeing that laptop of yours again so help me…"

"Fine, I suppose we may as well check the next bar, this one seems to be clear."

"Thank god, anymore techno-beat-dance-whatcha-call-it shit and I think I am gonna go postal." Dean moaned as they walked out the front door.

"Where to next then?" Dean asked as he started up the Impala.

"Well, looks like the next bar on our list is called 'The Bloody Chalice'. Too bad but it looks like we are finally moving away from your favorite bars huh?"

"Why the Hell didn't we go to that one first Sammy? It sounds exactly like the kind of place we are looking for!" Dean cried.

"Well as I recall when I started to list some of the most likely bars to check out you cut me off, and said that no matter how hard or how much time it would take, we should check each and every bar...thoroughly. I just thought you obviously knew best, what with you being the big brother and all, so I just went along with it…starting at what? 'The Flashy Peacock'? 'The Cosmo Girl?"

"More like the 'Flamboyant Peacock' if you ask me. Oh, I bet you just loved dragging me to these bars didn't you?" Dean growled.

"Yep, each and every painful, awkward minute of it." Sam beamed.

"Remind me to hit you later" Dean said shaking his head as they set off towards their next target: 'The Bloody Chalice' while Sam tried, but failed, to keep his laughter to a minimum.

* * *

Yeah, I think this may be due to the fact that Sam and Dean are always in basically the same type of bars, figured it would be nice to have Dean out of his element for a little while I suppose... 

Next chapter will actually be related to driving the plot forward and seems to be a little longer than the short little snippets I have posted so far. In fact it should be completed and posted rather soon..that is unless unexpected complication arise. Later and thanks for reading.


	3. Does the Glass Have Salt on Its Rim?

Hey again, thanks everyone who has been reading my story, I really appreciate it. Especially when people let me know how different parts went over with them and how they liked it. (hint...hint..hack...review please? I love you reviewers...hack). Anyways, here is the next chapter and enjoy.

* * *

"I feel entirely overdressed." Sam muttered as they wove through the crowds in the dimly lit entrance of 'The Bloody Chalice'.

"I dunno Sam, seems like the dress code either calls for a two-piece leather shrink-wrapped outfits or full length black trench coats, neither of which seem to fit our styles very well. You just don't have the pectorals for the studded leather bustier or corset look Sammy, and they just make my hips look ridiculous. Plus it would be criminal for me to hide everything I have to offer under a giant trench coat." Dean smirked while Sam replied to his brother's dress appraisal with a sharp jab to Dean's shoulder. "Hey now, I was just being honest…Damn, I haven't seen this much black mascara since junior high." Dean murmured.

"And I haven't seen so many plastic fangs since Halloween." Sam said with disgust as he slipped away from a vampress-wanna-be leaning towards him in an attempt to hiss seductively in Sam's ear, but who only managed to nearly spit out the plastic set of fangs which were adorning her teeth in the attempt. "This looks like as good a place as any for a vampire to hide though." Sam murmured.

"Yeah, doubt anyone would expect real vampires to be hanging out with these Halloween rejects. Hey! Just what the Hell are you looking at Count Chocula, huh??" Dean growled at a silver haired, lanky, pseudo-vamp with mascara and a black velvet cape who seemed to take offense at Dean's comment.

"Come on Dean, let's ask around at the bar. See if anyone remembers seeing Gordon or if any of the decapitated vampires were ever regulars here. I doubt Gordon would stick around a place like this any longer than necessary but surely he would have at least stopped by to check the place out, especially with its apparent reputation as the local 'Bad-Ass Vampire Den." Sam scoffed.

"Man, I wished this was as bad-ass as real vampires came. Hell, Toothpick there I could break over my knee without even breaking a sweat" Dean said indicating to a long, gangly teen who looked like a Q-tip wearing a trench coat and a black wig.

Sam and Dean worked their way towards the bar, pushing aside a group of pseudo-vamps who were angrily muttering as they left the counter.

"Excuse me, miss…" Sam yelled to the bartender who had her back to them as she reached for a bottle on the back wall. "We were wondering of you could…

"… Goddammit, I already told you twice tonight, as well as every night for as long as I have been working here, that I can only start serving the 'Sangre del Muerte' after midnight and no amount of bitching on your part about having to go to your lame-ass loser jobs tomorrow is gonna get you served any sooner than everyone else so you assholes can just back off or I am gonna shove those cheap, plastic, pointy whites of yours so far down your throats that your proctologist will have to take them out with forceps the size of…Ohhh. Sorry..." The bartender sheepishly replied as she turned around to face Sam and Dean. "I thought you were those freaks playing undead dress-up trying to get a cup of the house special early. I didn't mean to snap…well at least not at you guys. It's just those fanged freaks think that a little hissing and teeth baring will get them whatever they want. Pathetic really, I finally get my bartending license and the only place looking to hire is this dump of a freak show." She shook her head remorsefully, "Can I get you guys something, like the address for a normal bar?"

"Ohh man would I love that. After the places we have been tonight...whew, some of them make this place look almost normal…" Dean grinned as he sidled up closer to the bar.

"Actually we have a few questions about this place that we hoped you could help us with. We were wondering of you recognize any of these people as ever being customers at this bar." Sam asked as he pulled out the pictures of the decapitated vampires they got from police files and a picture of Gordon.

"Mmmm, I can't say I recognize any of them, and generally I remember anybody who comes in that isn't dressed to the freaky nines. The few normal people who do come in that aren't…of that lifestyle…generally take off pretty quick once they realize what they stumbled into."

"Is there another bartender who works nights too we could ask?" Sam pushed.

"Nope, I'm the lucky one that always gets nights."

"Hey, what's the deal with the 'Sangre del Muerte' drink you said those guys were so anxious to get?" Dean asked.

"Oh, that. It's the specialty drink of this bar. It isn't really an advertised mix but it is what draws in all of the vampire freaks. It is supposedly some sort of traditional ritual vampire ritual drink…or at least that is what all the freaks claim it is. Management wouldn't tell me what it really is, no doubt just some cheap cherry snow cone mix with lots of sugar, all I know is that serving it is how I get the big tips."

"And you were never curious what actually is in it?"

"Nope, I'm just not paid enough to really give a damn, much less be curious. All I need to know is two parts 'Sangre del Muerte' extract and one part vodka and voila'... you owe me 45 bucks. Long as I get paid and get a nice fat tip I am a happy gal."

"And apparently you only serve it starting at midnight? Why?"

"Well obviously because a dark and evil drink such as this can only be consumed upon the witching hour, duh. But really, it is just some gimmick of management to increase the allure and mystique of the drink for the bar's reputation. All I think is it is a great big pain in the ass." She tilted her head to look at the clock on the wall and sighed, " I would suggest now would be a good time for you guys to be taking off since it is quarter till midnight and the crowd tends to get a bit restless around now. Once I start serving the 'Sangre del Muerte' you are quite likely to get a plastic fang hickey from some overexcited freak, but at least once everyone gets a good buzz on they chill down a bit."

"Thanks for the suggestion but I am pretty sure we can handle ourselves with this crowd." Sam grinned "Do you think we could possibly get a sample of that mix? We are rather curious what is in it" Sam smiled sweetly.

"Sure, as long as you pay me 45 bucks and one hell of a tip once I start serving it, plus $750 up front and then 50 percent of any profit you get from stealing this bar's secret drink to sell as your own." She scowled. "You gotta think I am an idiot to think a couple of regular joe-schmoes like you two would come in and seriously be interested in the 'Sangre del Muerte'. Rule number one they told me when I started working here: never give out the 'Sangre del Muerte' to non-vamp customers. About the only thing I could see you two interested in it for would be to add as the newest drink mix for your bar. So..." her voice dropping low as she leaned closer over the counter, "What's it gonna be? I could really use the cash so I can skip out of this shit can of a job."

"Nahh, that's okay, I think we'll just hang around. You know, soak up the environment and lovely local color" Dean said as they left the bar counter.

"So what do you think about that Dean?"

"I think it is a fucking rip-off. 45 bucks for a little swig? I could get a hell of a lot more for 45 bucks than one piddly-shit glass. Betcha it doesn't even come with a colorful little umbrella..."

"No Dean, not about the price. Do you think there is even the remotest chance that they would be serving a genuine vampire drink from human blood at a bar like this?"

"Pffh, doubtful. About the only thing that would come from a human in that drink would be a nice spit-wad from the charming bartender. I would pretty much guarantee you that that drink is as genuine as the 'vampires' who are patrons here."

"Well since we are here and this is our best lead so far we may as well check out the drink just to be sure though once they start serving it."

"Sounds good, let's check around a bit while we wait for vampy happy hour to start and make sure that there are no real Fangs hiding in plain sight, we wouldn't want to miss something that may turn around a bit us in the ass...or more likely the neck." Dean grinned as he elbowed his brother in the ribs while Sam just rolled his eyes in disgust.

"You are pathetic, you do know that right?" But Sam was only answered with a wicked grin from his brother as they wove through a sea of black mascara and plastic fangs.

* * *

Hey again, thanks for sticking it out all the way to the end, hopefully you are still enjoying the story and will look forward to the next update in the not too distant future (if all goes well). Till then. 


End file.
